Harry Potter and the Return to Hogwarts

"Young ladies should take care of themselves. Young ladies are delicate plants. They should take care of their health and their complexion. My dear, did you change your stockings?" -J. Austen. (Emma)

Chapter 3.

September 2011.

It was the 1^st of September. At platform 9 3/4 in London the students were boarding the Hogwarts express, it had somehow survived the war and was still going strong. At Hogwarts, however, mayhem ruled. Someone, no one mentioned any names, but Sinistra cast ugly glances in the direction of that Quentin-girl, someone had inspired Peeves. Now he did not flood just one bathroom, he flooded them all. He did not just throw water-balloons at them; he filled them with after-shave on beforehand. Where had he got hold of something as Muggle as after-shave?

Hermione, who in general liked a whiff of after-shave on her men, did not like it splashed over her head nor dripping down from her hair and clothes. But Peeves was on a roll and did not exclude anyone from his wrath. Or the wrath of his water balloons.

Thus meaning that at breakfast on the first day of September the Great Hall stank of after-shave the way fourteen year old boys locker rooms smell after they have worked out. Eleanor tried her best to avoid it; she even tried a charm that made the smell disappear. The only bad thing with it was that she did not smell her eggs and bacon either, and she liked the smell of eggs and bacon early in the morning. She removed the charm and smiled ruefully out in the room, enjoying the empty hall before her. It was rather nice, the last meal in peace. Eleanor had only thought the thought before she realized that the peace was too fragile to last. They were simply too many strong willed people for there to be peace all the time.

Pretty soon after the school had reopened, one of the first quarrels had taken place. It had effectively divided the teachers into two camps, ex-Gryffindor and those who hadn't been in Gryffindor. When they were at school most of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs would most certainly have sided with Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, but now... well, the quarrel had been the culprit of many new things.

Now they had begun to discuss the teaching methods of Potion Makers. Eleanor was not going to get involved in that one. Her arguments with Draco never went well. He had not been all that nice to her when they were in school, being a younger and a Hufflepuff, and when he discovered that she taught Divination it did nothing to improve their relationship.

"Draco what's wrong with being nice to the students for once? Are you deliberately trying to be a new Snape?"

" You know, I tried "nice" once. Didn't care much for it to tell you the truth."

Helen looked thoughtful at him over her porridge. She loathed it, but couldn't bear telling it to the house-elves. "Is that what happened to "smart"?"

Sinistra choked on her kippers. When Justin got up to do the Heimlich grip on her she just waved him off and took a sip of water instead. "I am fine, Fletchley. The last time you did that to someone they wound up with a fractured rib. I swallowed wrong that's all. Ash," she turned from Justin to Helen, "don't insult Malfoy while I am eating my kippers. Insult him afterwards, so that I might enjoy it properly."

"No, that is not what happened to smart. Let's wait until we get to know each other better before making such statements." Aimée, who had seated herself next to Draco, leaned up and whispered something to him. He roared with laughter, but refused to let anyone know what the young girl had said to him.

"Oh well," Helen said. "Verbal ability is highly overrated in a fellow, and it is my pathetic need for it that always gets me into trouble. Keep your secrets. " She stared glumly at her porridge again. Eleanor hadn't known Helen that long, but she realised that the caretaker did not care much for the porridge that she had been served nearly every morning. Apparently so did Padma and Hermione. "You realise that the porridge most likely is someone's idea of a joke, don't you?"

The Great Hall, which would be bustling with talk tomorrow at the same time, was now oddly quiet, except for some chuckling from the males. But they refused to tell them whose joke it really was.

"Well... Let's focus on what's important. Last year we had some trouble with the sixth years who were furious that the seventh years were allowed to go to Hogsmeade every weekend if they wanted too. We can't have the same situation this year. It will lead to revolt. What do we do?"

"Its a whole new year Granger, things can be different." Sinistra knew that the easiest reason to irritate the Head of Gryffindor house was to patronize her. Granger always felt that she knew better than the rest of them put together. Which was why, Sinistra admitted to herself and herself only, that Granger girl was such an excellent professor.

"I heard from reliable sources tat we're getting some copies of my younger brothers this year." Charlie tried to avert the argument between his girlfriend and the oldest witch at Hogwarts. This time, unless many others, it was successful. Seamus took the bait.

"They have actually reproduced?"

"Fred has, but the ones I was talking about aren't related to any Weasley. Ladies and gentlemen, the Hecklethorpe triplets have reached the age of eleven. My mother says their aunt says they are an impossible lot."

"What are their names?"

"Here's the joke." Charlie grinned at them. "I've always thought that it was strange with George and Fred's names since they didn't match, like I thought twins' were supposed to. Well the triplets have names that match. Magnus, Marcus, I don't think he's related to Flint, and Marius, how about that?"

"Weren't they in the Daily Prophet some time ago, about an accident of some kind."

"Good grief." Hermione, Padma, Sinistra and Eleanor put their heads in their hands. They remembered perfectly the event that had been covered by the top-ranking newspaper.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later the very same evening in the very same place. Helen and Charlie had gone to Hogsmeade to fetch the students about an hour earlier and now the Great Hall was filled with hungry 2-7^th years. Sinistra and Draco was missing from the staff table; Sinistra because she was with the first years; Draco because he simply was Draco.

A few seconds, however, before the first years entered the hall Draco took his seat. Katharine, Hermione, Padma and Serena all shot him pointed looks, but it was Aimée who voiced what they were thinking. "You're late, Malfoy." He smiled at her before he smirked at the others. "I know how you feel. You don't know if you want to hit me or kiss me. I get a lot of that."

"Harrumph. I'll consent to the hitting, but the kissing?" Serena smiled sweetly at him.

"Just because no one wants to kiss you don't mean that I have the same problem."

"No one wants to kiss me? Even if that would be true I'd rather have that than happen to have cheap tarts crawling all over me."

"I don't have cheap tarts all over me. Hermione can vouch for that." He said it as dignified as he could. "Well, you didn't while we dated. I can't personally vouch for now. But since the days of Pansy Parkinson seems to be long gone I would say that he doesn't."

"The little blond boy needs the big strong girl to fight his battles for him?"

"Actually he doesn't. I just happen to enjoy fighting for boys. But I have a question for you, Serena. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment - at all?"

"Not really, I am sure she's mounted on a lovely wall in a first-rate home somewhere."

Harry decided to intervene before David could see the connection to the film he was so fond of. "So you're familiar with the Muggle culture, then?"

"My step-father is Muggle, he insisted that every child should know the basics, whether they'd be squibs, Muggle or witches/wizards. The lack of knowledge is what most often leads to hate and distrust, he said. What better foundation to build on than his children?"

The discussion was effectively stopped when Sinistra led the first years into the hall. "Please step up here when I call your name. The Sorting Hat will then commence the actual sorting."

"I've survived more wars than you'll ever know

I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

My mission, it may be a blessing or a blow,

Is to do that one essential thing: sort you all..."

"Ainsley, Blodwen" The girl held a confident air as she was sorted into Slytherin. The hat sorted "Beverley, Adrienne" and some others in to Hufflepuff, "Gilbert, Roderick" and some others in to Ravenclaw, some in to Slytherin and some in to Gryffindor before Sinistra called out: "Hecklethorpe, Magnus." A skinny, brown-haired boy stepped up and put the hat on. It waited some time before deciding on Gryffindor. "Hecklethorpe, Marcus." Hermione groaned as he too was sorted into the same house as his brother. "Hecklethorpe, Marius." Hermione looked wistfully at the hat and almost shed tears when she had to applaud the third Hecklethorpe stepping over to the Gryffindor table. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on such excellent additions to your house."

"Oh. Stuff it Draco."

"Hey, you blew me off, Hermione. I was trying to be friendly, you all heard me, didn't you?"

"Hermione, I am sure that if you just befriend them they won't seem to be so bad after all."

"Eleanor, you can't just will a friendship into existence. The little buggers are probably already planning and plotting the demise of Hogwarts and its professors. Just look at them smiling their evil little smirks."

The three young gentlemen in question did indeed smile, but Aimée didn't think that they were plotting and planning something because of that. They looked like they liked being sorted into Gryffindor. She wanted to be there with them, she didn't want to sit with David and the grown-ups. Why did she have to wait until next year to officially attend Hogwarts?

Finally the sorting was over and Dumbledore arose to make his speech the usual way, with little or no sense at all. "Weialala leia wallala leialala." The food appeared on the tables shortly after and no one had really time to talk about anything anymore. The House Elves had really outdone themselves.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco decided once more that he did not like Gryffindors. They were ignorant and doddering fools, and he had double Slytherin/Gryffindor first thing Friday mornings. Draco was not an early riser and it made him grouchy just having to get out of bed before noon. The only positive thing about today's class had been having Aimée there. The girl did know something about potion, not everything, but she was more eager to learn what he knew than the rest of them. If they continued in this way she couldn't join up with her own class for potions next year. She would be too far ahead. He supposed every year had one student who was clumsier than the rest of them. Back in his days it had been Neville Longbottom. This year it seemed like a Slytherin, Georgiana Wattle, would have the dubious honour. Well, at least he hadn't been stuck with the Hecklethorpe twins. He was going to use that fact as much as he could. Although they hadn't been too bad as soon as he'd separated them. It was fun, being a teacher and making sure that boy and girl was paired off. Especially in that age... later he enjoyed separating them... Who knew teaching could be this much fun?

~*~*~*~*~*~

In another classroom Sinistra was scolding Serena, over her rather inappropriate attire. One simply did not wear a mini-skirt and a halter neck only when one was teaching. Where were her long black robes that covered everything that needed covering? "Quentin! Have you got no shame at all?" Serena merely glanced down herself, noting the lack of pockets on the way. "Now that you mention it. I can't think where I've put it. I must have left it somewhere... excuse me, I have to go look for it." She turned around and fled leaving a befuddled Sinistra behind. "Accio chair. I really need to sit down. I survived Voldemort, but that Quentin girl will be the death of me for sure."

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a bright and sunny Saturday in late September. School had started okay, without too much trouble and the staff had decided it was time for Aimée to learn how to fly a broom. Naturally nobody wanted to be excluded from the experience, they all felt as if though she was the daughter they never had. Aimée would have preferred some level of privacy, but as Oliver pointed out to her, they were allowed to have a picnic wherever they wanted.

A red and white blanket (with ant-repellent charms on it) had been thrown on the ground. Draco had insisted that the blanket would be in the best possible position. Harry had brought a camera. It would be so nice to show some pictures at Aimée's wedding, or to have as blackmail material to show to potential boyfriends. Eleanor had made sure that the house elves had packed more than enough food in the picnic baskets and was busy unloading them as Aimée mounted the broom. "She's using the wrong technique. She's holding the broom all wrong."

"Harry, forgive me for saying this, but shut up. Oliver knows what he's doing and I personally want to enjoy this. If you wanted your daughter to learn all your quirks and errors you should have taught her before."

"All this from someone who has an unreasonable fear of height that has caused her never to travel by broom? What makes you so sure that Oliver knows what he is doing, Hermione?"

"He taught you how to play Quidditch and the Headmaster did hire him as a flying instructor. It's a wild guess, but I think he knows how to fly." She sat down on Charlie's lap and leaned back. He put his hands around her, smiling slightly at the rest of the group.

"Quit bugging my girlfriend, Harry. Oliver knows what he's doing. I taught him to play Quidditch, he can fly." Charlie murmured this while he put his hand up in her hair and trailed one of the curls down her cheek. Draco scowled. "Are we here to watch the kid learning to fly or Charlie and Hermione getting at it?"

"No need to be crude, Draco. Personally I find that I can catch a lot more flies with honey than with the vinegar you're pouring out."

"Ah, Serena," he drawled. "I always assumed your tongue darted out?" She didn't bother dignifying that with a response, but Katharine did. "Caepa Cirrata" she muttered under her breath. Seamus who was sitting next to her knew enough Latin to understand that it wasn't overly flattering to Draco what she had said. So he grinned at her. It amazed him to find out what a nice grin she had.

Aimée looked dubiously at the broom in her hands. "Are you sure it's safe?" Oliver patted her back. "It's the safest thing you'll ever have between your legs, lass." Over at the picnic blanket Harry's head shot up from the picnic basket where he had been searching for the Camembert. "What?" He looked over at the two with the broomstick.

"It was nothing. Just say up Aimée. You'll manage this just fine." He couldn't have said truer words. Like her father she looked as if though she belonged on the broom after she got over her first initial fright. She flew up and tried to dive. Hermione grinned over at Draco, Terry and Justin. "What do you want to bet that Gryffindor wins the Quidditch cup in about two years time?" They pelted their baguettes at her. David decided that he couldn't be left out of the fun so he threw his. The rest of the teachers soon joined in making it a food fight on the large scale.

When Aimée landed the fight was almost over. She noticed Serena stretching out her hand to help Draco get up from the ground. "You fight almost as well as a man."

She liked the way Serena always managed to have a witty answer to Draco's condescending talk. Like now. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you." Serena didn't like Draco very much, or perhaps she liked him too much. Something, Aimée decided, that she needed to think about when she got older. Was it really possible to be in love with a person you couldn't stand?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry looked patiently at the third years. Some of them were so set in their mind of thought that anything he said was bound to miss the target. Or to go in one ear and out the other. "I cannot do this without you. You must unlearn what you have learned, you must realise that what you know isn't set in stone. Take Galileo Galilee for instance. He didn't believe what the church told him, and he changed the world. If you just clear your mind to let new knowledge in would be so much easier."

"Professor Black told us that this was the way to do it." Great. A Hermione look-alike. He cursed both Hermione and his Godfather under his breath.

"Professor Black taught me that as well. But you know what? He also taught me that humans cannot be infallible and that there is some extra knowledge to be learned about everything. The way I see it; Defence Against the Dark Arts is like mathematics or Arithmancy. You learn something simple first, like addition or subtraction. But then you realize that simple isn't enough so you learn about logarithms and trigonometry as well. You still use your basic knowledge, but it's expanded to what you need to know about. This is what I am trying to teach you here. Nothing is set in stone, well except the Ten Commandments. Understood?"

"Sir," the "know-it-all" on the first bench raised her hand. "Who's this Galileo Galilee?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was Hogwarts weekend. Eleanor looked up and down Serena, as they stood waiting for the rest of the professors, noticing in her short skirt. Then she looked down herself. Her long skirt fell neatly to the ground without showing any hint of her legs. She felt grey and boring next to Serena. Serena always managed to look good, no matter what she was wearing. "How do you keep your legs warm?"

"I happen to drink coffee." Serena replied, clearly referring to the glass of milk Eleanor drank every morning. Eleanor just felt childish.

"Well, coffee stunts your growth." She muttered she didn't like being shorter than most of the staff, but at least it wasn't anything she ate or smoked that'd done it. She was just not blessed with tall genes.

"I hadn't noticed. Oh... hello Hermione, so the rest of you finally decided to show up? Well, good thing you managed to bring Draco, he looks like he might need a wee bit of sunshine. The body needs D-vitamins, Draco. Commonly found in sunshine. I think we must considering giving him a tablespoon of cod liver oil for breakfast every day. After all, it's not profitable for Hogwarts' reputation to have a teacher who looks ill."

"Wonderful girl. Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her. After more than a dozen years of being nicknamed the ferret she tells me I'm looking ill. Is that a promotion or a demotion?"

"Great, now you've actually managed to make me be stuck with serious thoughts all day." Serena was somewhat unable to smirk at the Potions master. It's just a reflex, she told herself.

"Quentin, Malfoy, Granger and Branstone you take that carriage..." Sinistra motioned at four and four to get into the carriages that would get them to the village.

"Hi, for those of you who just tuned in, everyone here is a crazy person." Hermione whispered loudly to Eleanor as they observed the looks passing from Serena to Draco and the opposite.

"You are, I assume, still trying to outwit me?" The only male in the carriage barely cast them a glance as they began the journey to Hogsmeade.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Serena and Draco were quarrelling in front of an audience in Hogsmeade. Serena had interpreted a simple comment from Draco in the worst possible way and things had gone rapidly downhill from there. "Look, I know you found me attractive. I saw you looking at my breasts."

"Nothing personal, but when a guy does that, it just means his eyes are open, besides you were looking at my behind a few minutes ago."

"Just for the record, I was only staring at your arse for the first 15 minutes I knew you. Afterwards it became clear to me that you are an arsehole, and it was not necessary to look at your behind, as you so eloquently put it, anymore."

"Well... I would rather be an arsehole that a cold frigid mean-tempered excuse for a woman."

Serena looked over at Draco. He looked back. His eyes didn't betray any emotion. "You know what? They say you are the world's only living heart donor. I didn't think it was true, until now. Congratulations." She turned around and left. Draco stood for a while, looking after her as the crowd lightened up. He blinked a couple of times then noticed that Aimée had been watching their argument.

"I need you to help me find something." He grabbed her arm and dragged her along, shooting a desperate glance in her father's direction. Harry nodded slightly before starting to run after Serena. He finally caught up with her.

"Serena. You know that sometimes when a boy likes a girl he can't seem to tell her that he like her. So he tries to get her attention, the only way he knows, with malicious remarks. And if the girl happens to like the boy back she responds. It is a little something I like to call flirting."

Serena looked at her fist that she'd clenched when she'd begun fighting with Draco, and then at Harry. "You're too darn perceptive for your own good. Why couldn't I fall for you?"

"Instead of the world's only living heart donor"

"Yeah... Why do I always fall for the bad boys? " Harry looked at her before he grinned and pointed in direction of "The Three Broomsticks." He put his arm around her shoulder, while checking that David wasn't giving Padma and Terry any trouble and that Aimée had disappeared into the apothecary with Draco. "I need something to drink, care to join me?"

"Yes. Then I can give you all the gory details of my non-existing love-life."

"And I can tell you everything about trying to dress my kids decent every morning. A fair trade."

"That's why I can't fall for you. You're too nice and sympathetic." She grinned at him as they walked to "The Three Broomsticks."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny Weasley was altogether pleased with the way her life had turned out. So she wasn't married to Harry Potter like she had wanted when she was ten, she had something better than any bloke.

Virginia Etain Weasley was the proud owner of "The Three Broomsticks." It had taken her some time to get the place back together after Madam Rosmerta had died, but now it was just the way Ginny wanted it to be. Clean, inviting and drinks were served faster than the customer could say "one Love of Juliet, please." It was the place to see and be seen on a Saturday night, when there was live music there.

The fact that practically every student and professor at Hogwarts came in whenever they were in Hogsmeade didn't hurt either. She made a healthy profit and considered the wisest buy ever made.

Right now she was considering the nice man sitting on one of the barstools in front of the counter. He looked nice. Maybe he was up for a flirt? It had been too long since she last had a date. The annoying thing about owning "The Three Broomsticks" was its location: just down the street from "Gred & Forge Inc." Naturally, since all men were boys at the bottom and enjoyed their toys, they had paid them a visit before they came to her. She really wished they would remove the standard disclaimer they had on every product. "All items are used at own risk. If you cause any harm onto our sister we are not responsible for our own actions. G&F Inc." But perhaps this gentleman hadn't been in their shop yet.

"Hello stranger. What may I get you?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'd like a medium dry martini, lemon peel. Shaken, not stirred if you don't mind." Eric had perched himself on one of the impossibly high stools at the bar. The barmaid, looking as if she had just left Hogwarts, smiled at him. He thought he spotted a dimple on her left cheek.

"Coming right up. So..." She knew her stuff, he realised, could probably mix a drink blind-folded if it ever came to that. "You new in town?"

"It shows? Well... They hired me as professor at Hogwarts. You've been doing this a long time?"

"According to my feet, forever." She placed the finished drink before him. "But in reality? Since I left Hogwarts."

"Last year?" She let out a laugh.

"Thanks. I really needed that." Another customer was in need of a drink and she smiled briefly at the man with the martini before pouring a Butterbeer. "Oh... Harry..."

She ran from the counter to the door where Harry had just entered. She jumped up, put her legs around his waist and kissed him soundly several times. "Where've you been? It's been ages. I've missed you, so much."

Serena looked at the two of them with an amused glance before poking Harry in the shoulder with her index finger. "Harry... Harry... You've got something stuck on your face."

Eric looked as the redhead finally let go of Harry. "Sorry. It's just been so long since I've seen him. Practically..."

"Ages," Harry finished for her. "So what've you been up to?"

"This and that. I bought this place with a little help from the twins and Charlie a while ago. Want a table?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was later the same evening. The students and the Potter children had been sent home with Padma, Sinistra, Hermione, Charlie, Oliver and Terry. The rest of the Hogwarts professors had all wound up in "The Three Broomsticks" as the day had progressed. Eleanor stared morosely down into her "Deluded Mortimer" (a dash of Butterbeer, cinnamon, a secret ingredient and two olives, opposed to a "Mortimer" without the cinnamon.) She took great pleasure in trying to stab the olives with the tip of the purple umbrella. After at least seven unsuccessful attempts she looked up at her co-workers. "Does anyone here remember when Saturday night meant date night? Instead of sitting around with colleagues you would actually go out with someone and the evening would end with a kiss?"

Draco looked briefly in her direction. "You sure don't," and took the green umbrella out of his Mai Tai and stabbed one of her olives with it.

"You killed my olive."

"Well, it didn't have all that much to live for. I think it'd already drowned in all that Butterbeer."

"Olive-killer."

The others looked bemused at them. "You are aware that the olives are not a living thing? Or are you secretly a fruitarian when you're away from Hogwarts?"

"He killed one of my olives, Helen. You can't get much meaner than that."

Eric looked philosophically out in the air before he quickly took the purple umbrella Eleanor had left in her glass and stabbed the last olive with it. "Nail them while they're vulnerable, that's my motto," he leered at her.

"Does that apply to your love-life as well?" Katharine was aware of the different implications in what he had just said.

"Well... at least I have a love-life." Eric and Draco both cast sidelong glances to the woman between them before they turned slightly over to look at her.

"I could have a love-life if I wanted to, you olive-eradicators."

Draco winked at Eric and raised his eyebrow to Eleanor. "Prove it."

"How can she prove it, Draco?"

"That's her business, Lavender."

Eleanor noticed a single guy sitting in by the counter. She got up, left her empty glass and the dead olives and walked over him. She tried to slide onto the barstool next to him, a cute guy with red hair. After a moment of looking out in the air she turned to him. "My name's Branstone, Eleanor Branstone."

He didn't look at her. "Congratulations."

She signalled to the waitress. "So, you come with a name or just an attitude?"

She finally got a response from the redhead. A smirk. "Just an attitude.

Eleanor signalled once more to the waitress, who seemed to be more occupied with filling glasses than actually taking orders. "And people find this charming?"

He turned to her, finally. "I haven't asked. D'you want a drink?"

"You work here?"

"Well, it isn't actually so much that... my sister owns the place. Me and my brothers pinch in now and then, when it's busy. Plus we got to take care of our baby-sister." He got up from the chair and went around the counter. "What may I get you? Would mademoiselle Branstone prefer a Butterbeer, a Bloody Mary or perhaps glass white wine?"

"Don't listen to him. He can't mix a drink if it was a matter of life or death. His drinks have this strange effect... they tend to make my customers avoid my place. Virginia Weasley, you can call me Ginny. Everybody else does." Eleanor shook the outstretched hand.

"Eleanor Branstone, I was a few years behind you in school."

"Yeah. What can I get you?"

"I'll have a Butterbeer, I guess."

"So..." the guy had seated himself next to her again. "Eleanor, huh? Nice name. What's a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?"

"I'm here with my colleagues. I am a professor at Hogwarts."

"You teach?"

"Yes, I do."

"What?"

"Divination. Thanks," she accepted the Butterbeer and threw Ginny a smile.

"You teach Divination? What does the cards tell you to do?" She smiled at the incredulous tone and decided Good Eleanor could do with a few minutes off-duty.

"This." She grabbed his face and planted her mouth on his. It felt just about right, and the catcalls coming from the Hogwarts professor's table didn't hurt much either. After what felt like forever she let go of his mouth. He stared at her. She took her glass in one hand and drank most of it in one go before putting some coins on the counter, giving Ginny a wave and sauntering towards the door.

"H-hey," he finally got back his voice and called after her. "Would it be all right if I were to, you know, get in touch with you sometime?"

She turned slowly in the doorframe and winked saucily at him. "It wouldn't suck."

The door slammed shut after her. Draco led the applause.

~*~*~*~*~*~